by Scott Monk
‘That was too easy,’ Michael said.
‘Just more proof someone in power is involved,’ Samantha added.
‘Set us down there,’ Luke pointed. ‘It’s the same warehouse.’
‘What do we do with them?’ Tahoke asked, nodding towards their captives.
‘Leave them until we find Queen Oriana,’ Michael said. ‘She’ll arrest them for treason.’
The warehouse’s roof opened automatically, allowing the skysled to land among the broken mining machines. The triplets and injured Scorned warriors ditched their costumes then regrouped outside.
‘Hopefully, the tunnels will take us to the palace,’ Luke said, lifting up a grate. ‘We can sneak in without attracting trouble.’
He swapped his flashlight’s battery with one from the warehouse and climbed down. Samantha followed, then Michael, who paused when Tahoke’s men left for the streets.
‘We’ll meet you at the palace,’ the chieftain said. ‘First, my people need to learn the truth. They have a right to know their homeland is in danger.’
Reluctantly, the triplets watched them go. Discretion was vital. They hoped to reach Oriana first without tipping off the surviving traitors.
‘So who is it?’ Luke asked his siblings as they followed the service tunnels under the harbour.
‘The black harlequin told us he’d been hired by the government to invade the Broken Isles,’ she said. ‘It must be a politician.’
‘I reckon it’s Prime Minister Federico,’ Michael said. ‘We didn’t know he existed until he got rid of Pasquale. He’s probably been slowly working his way into power.’
‘You better be right,’ Luke said. ‘We don’t want to accuse an innocent man.’
Further along, as his flashlight swung through the darkness, he was stopped by Michael. ‘What are these?’
The walls were covered with graffiti and children’s paintings. Some were of animals and flowers. Others, though, were gloomier. They depicted a battle between Pacifico and the Thirteen Tribes. Warriors on sharks rode through the streets and darkened the skies with arrows, while marines defended themselves with swords and pikes. Among their feet lay the dead and wounded.
Other items – broken clay pots, metal soup cups, chalk stubs, blackboards, books squeezed into cracks and a mouldy blanket hanging limply across the doorway of a makeshift sick room – provided clues that a large number of people had once sheltered down here. A lingering fear left the triplets cold.
‘Tahoke said there had been a lot of blood spilt between both nations, didn’t he?’ Michael stated.
‘And Cavalli’s father had been killed by the Thirteen Tribes,’ she added.
‘But this looks like a long time ago,’ Luke said. ‘Possibly decades.’
‘Let’s move on, hey?’ Michael said. ‘Let’s not worry about it now.’
Several more turns later, Luke hastened their pace. He led them through the steam room then towards the metal door with the peephole. ‘That’s it,’ he pointed. ‘The hidden dungeon. Lady Isabelle could still be inside.’
‘Then hurry up,’ Samantha said, impatiently. ‘Let’s rescue her.’
‘No, wait! It’s guarded.’
He pulled the green harlequin’s mask from the largest pouch, placed it on his face then knocked. Footsteps approached and the peephole slid across. The marine paled before throwing open the bolt. Michael rammed the door and Samantha hogtied the guard so he couldn’t escape. Luke yelled ‘Clear!’ after discovering no more marines. He lifted a key ring and hurried down the curving pathway.
The smell was vile, but it was nothing compared to the shock of facing dozens of grey eyes. The prisoners spotted the Hall of Heroes’ costumes and stared at the triplets with hunger, confusion and anger. Luke dispelled any fears that they were conspiring with the jailers. He unlocked each cell as his siblings found food and water.
‘Get to the surface,’ Michael said. ‘Tell everyone what you know.’
‘Isabelle’s not here,’ Luke said, looking through the prisoners – both Pacifican and Scorned alike. ‘Or the Red Samurai.’
‘We’re too late. They’ve already been sold into slavery.’
‘We have to find them.’
‘One heroic gesture at a time,’ Samantha said. ‘Time’s running out. The traitor will soon know we’re in the city. We need to find Oriana – now!’
As they fell into step behind the prisoners, a couple of stragglers turned a hook and a secret door swung open. They disappeared through it, just as they’d watched their jailers do. The triplets followed.
It branched into several more tunnels, including one dipping deep underground. ‘That’s the way to the palace,’ offered a prisoner.
He was right. At the other end, they discovered a spiralling staircase, which surfaced three floors above at a second secret door. When the triplets cracked it open, they covered their eyes against the brightness of a holo-painting. ‘It must be how the black harlequin snuck in at night,’ Luke said.
Staying hidden, they spied a cloakroom. It was full of mirrors, couches, suits, shirts, walking canes, hats, shoes and colognes.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Michael said.
Dignitaries from across the universe filled the enormous ballroom, entertained by dancing troupes, trapeze artists and a full orchestra. They drank, discussed politics and marvelled at four giant cone-shaped cakes – each assembled with three thousand white-chocolate roses.
Disguised as nobles, and with most of their costumes locked in the cloakroom, the triplets moved among the guests, keeping an eye out for the newly elevated Prime Minister Federico. A few times they thought they heard his sly voice, only to be disappointed by a case of mistaken identity when they got close enough.
‘There he is,’ Samantha said, pointing to a set of folding doors.
Applause overwhelmed the last hum of violins before four trumpeters quieted the din and turned the guests towards the new Prime Minister. He threw open his arms and announced, ‘Distinguished friends, in this, her family’s three hundredth year in power, let us all welcome Her Majesty, Queen Oriana of Pacifico!’
The doors opened and everyone applauded. Beautiful as ever, Oriana sashayed through, wearing elbow-length gloves, a shell crown over her purple hair, a downy azure dress with a long train, and a giant blue butterfly mask. She curtsied to the dignitaries then brought the room to a hush. With a snap of her jewelled fingers, her mask suddenly flapped its wings and fluttered away! The guests erupted with more applause. But that was not all. With another snap, her entire blue dress exploded into thousands of smaller butterflies. Laughter soon filled the ballroom as the colourful insects landed on the noses and shoulders of nobles, monarchs and presidents.
As the orchestra struck up a rousing symphony, Oriana walked among the celebrations in a lavender silk gown, which had been hidden underneath. The chatter returned and Michael slipped through the crowd, trying to reach her, but Oriana’s friends swarmed first. Against his better judgement, he held back to avoid causing a scene. Samantha and Luke had surrounded the Prime Minister anyway.
‘Are you sure Federico’s the traitor?’ Luke whispered, finding the pair of handcuffs in one of his pouches. ‘I still think we’re going after the wrong person.’
‘Who else could it be?’ Samantha answered above a group of laughing lords and ladies. ‘Just stay back until Michael gives the signal, okay?’
The dignitaries continued to press Oriana, making it impossible for Michael to speak to her alone. As far as he knew, she hadn’t even spotted him under this disguise.
Conversations were loud, animated and occasionally broken by a footman announcing the arrival of an important world leader. One dignitary in particular caught everyone’s attention – an elderly woman, whose skin was painted completely white. She wore a silver crown of rubies, a necklace of sapphires and an all-white gown adorned with white peacock feathers fanning from her back. Her head was shaved completely bald except for a single topknot of black
hair, which ran down her nape, just like the sugar merchant. And drawn around her eyes were circles of yellow, blue and green that matched more traditional peacock colours.
‘Your Majesty,’ the woman said, curtseying. ‘My world wishes to honour your royal household’s three hundredth anniversary with a gift.’
Her entourage wheeled forward an enormous cage containing eight strawberry finches. The birds leapt among the plants and chirped like silver bells.
‘Empress, you honour me greatly!’ Queen Oriana mirrored the Empress’s curtsey then wiggled her left fingers through the cage, hoping to attract a pretty finch. ‘Can my household return this favour in any way?’
The Empress smiled. ‘Word has reached even our ears from across the Seven Worlds about your musical prowess, Your Majesty. Would you indulge your guests and play from your mandolin?’
Oriana moved away from the cage and hid her right glove. ‘Respectfully, I cannot this day. I injured my hand in a fall.’
Amid the sighs, Michael screwed up his face. His memory flashed with images of their evening together among the instruments at the royal palace’s observatory, and the battle with the harlequins – specifically the white harlequin. Oriana played the mandolin?
She nodded to the orchestra to resume its symphony, and the guests returned to their conversations. From the fringes, the marine sergeant – now promoted to captain – pushed through them until he reached Oriana. He begged her indulgence then whispered into her ear.
‘No!’ she answered, reeling away. ‘They cannot be dead!’
Again, the ballroom hushed.
The Empress turned her wide, feathered gown around and asked, ‘Your Majesty? What news disturbs you?’
‘It’s – It’s the Gold Knight. He –’ Michael reversed his direction, struggling to reach his siblings. ‘He is slain!’ she yelled.
Shock overwhelmed the guests. The room whirled with grief and speculation, until fear bullied its way into people’s hearts.
‘Who has committed such an act?’ the Empress asked above the din. Several more voices echoed the same question.
‘The monster that lives on the Broken Isles and those who control it,’ she said, sobbing.
‘Who controls it?’
‘The Scorned! They seek our riches for themselves and have declared war!’
All reason was lost among the noise and madness. The wild rumour soon became truth. Nobles called for the marines to take arms. Others promised to fight the savages and drive their kind from the Western Seas once and for all.
However, the growing anger drained away as a holographic recording beamed above their heads. It flashed with images of the pirate ship scouring the Broken Isles, thousands of slaves mining for gold, children sewing clothes, the harlequin sky battle, Aurelio’s death and haggard prisoners locked away in the hidden underground jail. Everyone stood transfixed.
‘Who is responsible for these atrocities?’ Prime Minister Federico suddenly shouted.
‘One of your own,’ Michael yelled, throwing off his noble’s disguise, alongside Luke and Samantha.
Again, the guests were taken aback. ‘The Gold Knight! He lives!’
‘Sir Michael?’ Oriana asked, wide-eyed.
‘Healthy as you can see,’ he answered. ‘But the same can’t be said about the monster.’
‘Because it never existed,’ Samantha yelled for the whole gathering’s benefit. ‘It’s a lie to scare people away from what’s really happening on the Broken Isles.’
‘Which you’re watching, thanks to my built-in camera,’ Luke said, tapping his earpiece’s projector. ‘All this footage has been filmed during the past twenty-four hours.’
There was a great intake of breath. ‘Those mines are real?’ Federico asked in a rising voice.
‘Yes, as your government well and truly knows, Prime Minister,’ Michael answered. ‘And so are the slaves.’
‘Slaves owned by pirates,’ Samantha said.
‘Pirates working for someone in this room,’ Luke said.
‘Who?’ the guests shouted.
‘Yes, who?’ Oriana asked. ‘They will forfeit their life!’
‘Then, Your Majesty, Pacifico needs to find a new queen,’ Michael said.
The news ambushed everyone. Lords and ladies stared at each other, while presidents and kings waved over their advisers. The initial confusion was expected but not what happened next. Rather than demanding she be arrested, the triplets encountered anger. ‘Outrageous!’ people shouted. ‘Lies!’
Oriana silenced the courtiers clustered around her then strode forward with the demeanour of a viper. ‘Your disgraceful accusation, Gold Knight, is untrue and unfounded. Today, you have brought great shame not only to my royal household, my city and my people, but to yourself and the great Hall.’
‘Then explain this, Your Majesty.’ Luke played the scene where the white harlequin put away her silver mandolin and tried poisoning Michael with a blow dart. After being disarmed by Samantha, the white harlequin then misjudged a punch and broke her right hand.
‘Look familiar?’ Michael asked.
‘Why should she?’ Oriana asked. ‘Who is this villain?’
‘You, Your Majesty. You and that harlequin are the same.’
This incensed the court even more. Nobles called for the triplets to be arrested.
‘Nonsense! Just because one strums a mandolin does not mean one associates with traitors!’ Oriana shouted.
‘Show us your hand.’
‘I will not! Captain! Arrest these three. I have reason to believe they are impostors – and not from our beloved Hall of Heroes!’
The marines rushed towards the triplets, but were quickly surrounded themselves. The Scorned footmen dropped their platters with a crash and revealed themselves as Tahoke and his men.
‘Show us your hand!’ Michael repeated.
‘How dare you use that tone with me, child. I am a queen and you are a charlatan. Captain, you have your orders!’
The marines couldn’t move. Both they and the Scorned warriors faced each other in an armed stand-off. Concerned about bloodshed, Michael snatched a glass of water from the Empress and threw its contents at Queen Oriana. It splashed her waist and arm in a harmless and seemingly juvenile act of rebellion.
However, as the water dripped down her left hand, her smallest ring – a silver signet with a false ruby – suddenly burst forth with a holographic image. It showed the Weeping Mountains then Luke’s face.
‘Monster’s lair,’ the Vulture’s recorded voice said. ‘Now. We have captured one of the children.’
The room became chaotic. Marines didn’t know what to do. Dignitaries didn’t know what to say. A bold noble even grabbed Her Majesty’s hand from behind and removed her right glove. Underneath, her knuckles were bruised and badly swollen.
‘The rest of her secret police are caged in a warehouse!’ Michael shouted to anyone who would listen. ‘Go and ask them who they work for! They’ll tell you it’s her!’
‘Captain of the Royal Marines,’ the Empress said, ‘I strongly suggest that you place Her Majesty under house arrest until a time deemed fit by an emergency sitting of your parliament.’
‘What?’ Oriana said. ‘Captain, you shall do no such thing. Marines! Stand down!’
The captain and his men hesitated.
‘Captain, arrest her!’ Prime Minister Federico repeated. ‘That is an order! The Queen is relieved of duty as spelt out in our Constitution.’
‘And arrest the politicians,’ Samantha said. ‘Until we can figure out how many are involved as well.’
Prime Minister Federico paled as the marines blocked off the exits.
Nearby, the captain was caught between conflicting orders until the crowd forced his hand. ‘Arrest her!’ a lone voice shouted, before echoed by several more.
‘Queen Oriana of the Pacifican royal household,’ the marine captain began, ‘I regret to inform you that I am placing you under house arrest until a date to �
�’
‘You can’t arrest me! You do not have the authority. None of you do! I will be proven innocent and all of you jailed for treason!’
‘I don’t think so, Your Majesty,’ Michael said, facing her. Their eyes locked – hers with anger; his with hurt and betrayal. ‘Only one person holds enough power on this planet to order a ban on shipping lanes. Only one person can guarantee pirates safe passage to the Western Seas. Only one person can stop her marine captain from investigating nobles who have been kidnapped from Pacifico at night. And that person is you, Your Majesty.’
The dignitaries watched with a mix of alarm and fear as she, a queen, was marched out in shame. For someone they had once considered an ally, she was now treated with revulsion. Whatever happened from this day on, her rule was finished.
As the commotion grew louder, the triplets slipped away. Finally, the real monster had been caught. It was time to go home.
31
Standing on a pebbled beach in their costumes, the triplets watched as the remaining royal yachts, presidential starships and cruisers jetted away without fanfare. The citizens of Pacifico were caught up with news of their queen’s betrayal.
‘I always knew she was behind this,’ Samantha said, following streams of water flowing upwards from the sea.
‘Really?’ Luke said, trudging behind her through the trees and long grasses that covered the slopes of the extinct volcano. ‘And when were you going to tell us?’
‘When Michael stopped looking at her all lovey-dovey.’
‘Was not!’ he answered, cheeks burning.
‘Yes you were!’ Luke said, slapping him on the back. ‘You do know because the special mineral water here makes people look so young that Oriana was probably as old as Nanna!’
He made puckering noises, which only embarrassed his brother further. Michael chased after him, but was slowed down by his armour.
They hiked towards the lake nestled inside the extinct volcano’s crater. Several pipes had once carried water between it and the Ninety Islands, crossing under the harbour.